


Jealousy, anger, frustration, arousal, everything is the same when you're heartbroken and traumatized

by Myo_sis



Category: Gintama
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloody, Bottom Gintoki, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, This is, Voyeurism, but you know, hijikata and gintoki are soulmates so, our favorite slut, well TakaGin and not really HijiGin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23552218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myo_sis/pseuds/Myo_sis
Summary: Set right after the festival of Gengai arc. Hijikata's sure he has found Takasugi's whereabouts but his instincts tell him to go alone.But no matter how clever and strong the Demonic Vice-Chief is, what he is about to discover will shatter his resolve to pieces.---Is it me or the sexual tension between Takasugi and Gintoki is painfully obvious since his first appearance?I wish Hijikata and Takasugi could share dirty anecdotes about Gin, and then fight to death.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki, Sakata Gintoki/Takasugi Shinsuke
Comments: 19
Kudos: 163





	Jealousy, anger, frustration, arousal, everything is the same when you're heartbroken and traumatized

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is dirty, my english sucks but i had to get that hc out of my mind  
> enjoy :3

The building was an abandoned house whose restoration had stopped; the perfect hideout for a criminal on the run. Nobody ever came here, if not some of the city’s scum, easy to kick out if needed. Takasugi _had_ to be hidden there, Hijikata knew it. So why was he alone out there in the dark while he could have called for backup to surround the building and look out for other enemies? The mission would definitely be a success if he had a squad here with him, but -- 

_I have to go alone_. 

He wasn’t exactly sure why. But it remained a certitude. More than a feeling, he had few hints why it had to be that way, but nothing he wanted to acknowledge. 

In the depths of his mind, deeper than where he would ever go willingly, a little voice was explaining clearly why. 

He had seen Takasugi at the festival, he was sure about it. And what he was also certain about was the _other man_ he had seen next to him. He hasn’t seen much but he has caught a glimpse of white and blue yukata, and recognizable silver perm. 

Gintoki was out there with the criminal, Hijikata’s was unconsciously convinced about it. 

A sort of unhealthy curiosity has settled in his guts. Ever since he had met the perm head, he had a growing odd admiration for him. He fundamentally hated him for who he was and what he had done ; humiliating Kondo, being an insufferable dumbass and being way too strong not to be involved in shady affairs. 

Everything in the silver-haired man was obsessing the Vice-chief in spite of his best efforts to repress it. Too powerful, too nonchalant, too mischievous - Hijikata was attracted, and it fucking hurt to admit it. 

His thoughts dropped silent as the parquet floor let out an audible crack. He immediately shifted in fighter mode, adopting a feline gait, well aware of his environment despite the obscurity. 

Progressively, sounds came to his ears. At first, it was a distant banging, like something we would repeatedly hit on the floor. Then muffled...voices? Noisy friction turning gradually in wet sounds and skin against skin snaps. _What the hell? A fight?_ But no matter how hard he tried to believe in it, it definitely _didn’t_ sound like fighting sounds. 

He couldn’t back off now. He had already gone too far. 

Tiptoeing further into darkness, the sounds grew louder. Gasps, moans, rustles of clothes, skin slapping against skin, wet sounds and...these moans. _I know that voice._

Hijikata squeezed his katana out of frustration. He couldn’t know this voice, he was probably wrong, he had to be, there was no way in hell --

“Look at me, bastard” 

The voice that broke his inner turmoil was breathless and distorted by lust and, there was no doubt possible. It was Takasugi’s. 

Apprehension squeezed the Officer’s guts. He wasn’t afraid of the man - he didn’t fear anyone. He was here for him in the first place, to take him down and subdue him to justice. He gave no damn in what situation the criminal could be into at the moment. Quite the contrary; he visibly was at his most vulnerable and it was what he needed to arrest him (and humiliate him while we’re at it).

Although...the confirmation that it was indeed his man engaged in such activity made his heart pound into his chest and sweat covered his temples and palms for a whole different reason. A brutal making out session was taking place behind the wall he was leaning against ; and all he could hear was manly sounds and grunts. Takasugi was in there, having sex with another man. 

And no matter how hard he tried to repress this thought, it was coming back full force on him every time. 

_The yorozuya. It’s him._

Repressing a whistling of frustration and anger, he leaned a little more into the dark toward the noisy room. He couldn’t compromise his mission for non-senses like that, for fuck’s sake! _Get your shit together and get him._

Another moan broke the heavy silence of the corridor. Shameless, raw and familiar, followed by a grunt and more wet sounds. Hijikata shuddered ; his position here was wrong, he was breaking every moral rule just by the twisted fact that he was standing there, _listening_. His only fuel was his mission, arresting that fucker once for all. That was his only, sole motivation pushing him to take step after silent step onto the wooden floor. Nothing else could possibly be motivating him at the moment...

_The yorozuya and Takasugi are…_

Another parasite thought that he sent away with all of the resolve that was left in him. He had to know. He had to be sure that it was him, he had to know, he had to _see_ …. _No, goddammit I’m just here to arrest Takasugi, I’ll burst in and take him down and..._

“Flip over. Like that. Fuck - hmmph, you’re really a slut” 

Hijikata froze and felt his whole body shattering. His brain was like melting into his skull, discharging an unbearable heat ravaging everything in its wake and finishing its journey into his crotch. The voice was still Takasugi’s but hoarser, _greedier_.

Once the wave of shock passed, Hijikata resumed his discrete approach alongside the wall. All his thoughts were knocking together in his head in a baffling mess. He had lost his steady breath and thoughtful movements, unusual for a seasoned samurai like him. Control and steadiness were inexorably slipping out of his being. The situation and his subconscious were taking over, and he was so overwhelmed at the moment that he couldn’t even realize it. 

All what was kept clear in his mind was -- forward, closer to the scene, so he could _see_. He wanted to see, he had to, he _needed_ to. 

His heart was pounding into his ears. The silence, only disturbed by filthy sounds, was weighing heavily on his shoulders. He was utterly uncomfortable, and he was dying to _watch_ , even though it didn’t make any sense. Reason had left him already, and his hand cautiously reached the doorframe. The shoji door was wide open ; the men were either persuaded no one could find them here or, most likely, didn’t give a damn about details. Breathless moans and muffled insults strengthened this possibility. Hijikata wasn’t much of a sex expert, but he could easily recognize passionate sex. And what was taking place a few meters away from him wasn’t sultry, even less amorous. It was feral. 

Out of breath, his curiosity peaking, he slowly moved forward to catch a glimpse of the scene. His mind was blank of any thought. He was moving out of instinct, like a beast answering primarily to his needs. And so, he saw. 

The two men were at the end of the room, on the ground. The reddish light of an old lamp was lighting them ; Hijikata could see Takasugi’s back and the light illuminated the silver-haired man under him - 

_Gintoki_ _._

Although discovering Gintoki’s in such position should have shocked him, the Vice-chief remained impassive. Probably because he has always known. 

His cerulean gaze started to study the room ; it was an actual mess. Broken furniture, fresh blood, dust flying in the air - looked like a tornado had destroyed the fucking place. The crazy amount of blood was rather in favor of a recent fight. Violent, fight. Following the blood with his eyes, he arrived at the chaotically moving bodies : they were still fully clothed, they had only opened what needed to be opened. The exposed skin he could find was bloody and covered in cuts and bruises. Actually, they had blood everywhere. On their lips, faces, chests - a real lustful butchery. Their swords weren't far from their intertwined bodies, and covered in blood as well, as if they had bluntly given up their duel to savagely make out on their battlefield - which was probably what happened. 

Gintoki's recognizable yukata was soaked in sweat and blood, and was torn off in some places. Which made sense - Takasugi was gripping him so hard his chuckles were white and his hand trembling. If they were both close enough to be seen, Gintoki was the one facing the doorframe and whose face was lighted by the lamp. The black-haired man almost grunted of surprise and contentment when he realized that he could see all of his sinful face by just leaning a little further toward the room. From where he was, the light focused on the two men was protecting him, blinding Gintoki just the right way. 

He didn't know if it was because of his unstable mind or if he actually was stupid, but ever since he discovered the scene, he was paying attention about little details. The blood, their clothes, the expression of Gintoki's face -- little aspects of the scene, focused ones that were totally eclipsing the bigger picture, the whole scene.

He gritted his teeth in an umpteenth attempt to back off, to run away and throw up his frustration and self-disgust outside the building. But he couldn't. He was incapable to move, for his mind was too occupied acknowledging the actual scene that was taking place right in front of his innocent but greedy eyes. 

If he hadn't realized it at first, it was probably because his mind was protecting him from seeing too much. Torn-down limbs, spilled guts, pools of blood and faces contorted in agony, that was nothing to handle compared to the show taking place under his gaze right now. 

Gintoki was laying on his back, head rolled backward, his hands furiously tugging at the purple hair. One of his leg was thrown over the criminal's shoulder to shift his butt upward. His other leg was crooked around Takasugi's muscular body. The purple-haired samurai was pounding roughly into Gintoki, drawing a strangled hiss from him at each thrust. And - he couldn't ignore it any longer, part of him was dying to know more about it - Takasugi was... 

The criminal had one hand strongly seizing the white yukata while holding the ivory thigh. And his other hand was circling Gintoki's throat with such strength that he could see his wrist shaking. Hijikata had seen suffocating men, but Gintoki's contorted face had nothing of an agonizing asphyxiated man, quite the opposite. His mouth was wide open on a breathless cry, his bloody lips trembling lightly. His cheeks were as crimson as his eyes, since no blood could leave his face anymore. His whole face was twisted in a depraved expression of pure pleasure. And when any sensible man would have both hands gripping onto the hand choking them out of panic, Gintoki was totally surrounding into the coercive grip, his hands too busy jerking the purple hair. Takasugi’s grasp was so firm Hijikata could see every muscle of his arm shaking. The two men were strong, stupidly strong, and it showed : Takasugi’s back and forth never seemed to tire, and Gintoki’s body was taking each jerk forward without moving an inch. Hijikata was hypnotized. 

If they had kept their clothes, Gintoki’s yukata was sloppily opened on his muscular chest and belly. The perfectly defined skin was covered in gleaming sweat. And if Takasugi’s body was unfortunately masking most of it, the black-haired man could glimpse Gintoki’s throbbing hard-on jolting against his lower abdomen at each movement.

Hijikata’s gulped with difficulty, knowingly ignoring his mouth watering.

Sinful ecstatic face, eyes rolled back and body undulating greedily, the yorozuya was having a blast. Wet trails under his eyes were meeting drool and blood at the corner of his mouth, and the odd mixing of body fluid was dripping onto Takasugi’s hand and dirtying the silver hair. It was nasty, outrageous and unholy, but Hijikata had never witnessed such a hypnotizing and, fuck, _alluring_ scene. 

He had never imagined he’d see the perm head in such position. But now it seemed like it would become the only way he could picture him, and he knew, deep down, that this sight would haunt him forever. And while it should have annihilated all the remnants of shameful admiration he had for the man, hidden behind his resentment and hatred, it didn't. In fact, it was doing the opposite. To see his muscular, visibly invincible body, at the mercy of the criminal, willingly submitted to Takasugi's lust and strength, was painfully intoxicating. He was obsessed with the idea, so enticed that dirty thoughts he had never had in his life were inundating his mind.

Hijikata's eyes widened and blood rushed South. He was _so_ fucked up. Was he... desiring that man? why? how? It wasn't him, he hated that guy, he _abhorred_ him with everything he had, and yet… His delirious mind concluded that he would give anything to switch place with Takasugi, and his whole body was _imploring_ to get hold of that slutty samurai.

Few minutes passed, and the now horny Officer had totally forgotten about the mission and his motive. His resolve had gone up in smoke, unapologetically burned down by the fire wreaking havoc in his body. He could only focus on how gorgeous and heavenly Gintoki was looking, how powerful he appeared while submitting body and soul -- he had lost it.

The Vice-chief’s knees were slightly shaking, and his breath was becoming shorter. He was so hot, he started to feel dizzy. An insufferable discomfort was consuming him. He shifted in an - failed - attempt to relieve a bit of the pressure crushing his body, and repressed a shameful moan in the motion. Fidgeting against the wall wasn’t helping at all; it made him realize how _hard_ he was, and how tight his pants felt on his crotch. What was growing pleasant and urging in his guts was rapidly turning into something dangerous that he had never felt before. A very sober part of his mind was howling orders and insults toward himself; _messed up disgusting jump in and kill them messed up you're messed up !!!! --_ but each time a reasonable thought popped into his mind, a moan or an irresistible cry was drawing his attention back to the two men. 

Hijikata had no control over himself anymore; Takasugi and Gintoki had him whole, he couldn't fight anymore, he was entirely submitted to their beats.

Suddenly, Takasugi relieved his grip and Gintoki gasped loudly. He coughed and whimpered at the same time, and it went directly to Hijikata’s cock. Takasugi laughed, a hoarse and sarcastic laugh. 

“Few more seconds and I was losing you” 

The criminal took a deep breath in, slowing his movements down. He leaned toward a dazed Gintoki, panting like a dog, eyes closed. He suddenly let out a plaintive wail, as Takasugi pulled his hair, rolling forcefully his head back. He caught his breath in a pant and ordered, his mouth against the blushed and sweaty cheek. 

“I’m tired of seeing your dirty face, turn around.” 

They moved - Gintoki obeyed without a single word, positioning as ordered in spite of his sore and numb muscles. Hijikata’s heart missed a beat and he took a step backwards. Making sure they weren’t looking in his direction, he resumed his shameful spying. He couldn’t see Gintoki’s face anymore, but had a clear view on his rear. Takasugi unceremoniously spread Gintoki’s legs, settled in between the muscular thighs and started fingering him, three fingers in one go, palm facing the ground, aiming directly for the man’s sweet spot. Caught off guard, Gintoki _screamed_ \- the sexiest sound Hijikata heard tonight -, his legs giving in. Hijikata’s own legs threatened to give in, it was too fucking much. 

Takasugi let out an annoyed grunt, and his other hand gripped the silver head’s throat once more, drawing his body to his. Gintoki’s spine was arched in a painful way, but he didn’t seem to care, eyes closed and mouth letting out insane muffled moans. 

“Shut up.” 

Takasugi threatened, his fingers harsh and relentless. He brought his mouth to his ear, giving no shit about the weird angle he was forcing the perm head into, and whispered : 

“I forbid you to touch yourself. You’ll cum from my dick, nothing more.” 

His voice was menacing and lecherous. He let go of his throat and Gintoki fell back on his hands, coughing in the motion. Panting, his body waved against the fingers, his ass asking for more, moaning muffled words Hijikata couldn’t understand. Takasugi had a satisfied chuckle and drew his fingers back and Gintoki let out a displeased whine. Bothered by his plaintive moans - while it was pure art for Hijikata’s ears -, Takasugi seized his neck and slammed his head against the ground, with enough strength to make the wooden floor tremble. Gintoki groaned but stayed still as the criminal repeated, louder and angrier this time : 

“Shut. up.” 

Ruthless, he positioned himself and bluntly jerked forwards with a low moan of pleasure. His movements rapidly recovered their fervor, and Gintoki barely protested as Takasugi resumed his pounding. The purple-haired man’s hands were gripping onto the other’s buttocks, scratching him hard enough to draw blood. Their breathings were getting sloppier and they were getting obviously incapable of repressing their moans. Gintoki must have tried to reach his erection at some point because after an angry protest, Takasugi pulled both of the other’s arms behind his back, forcing his cheek to sink into the ground, painfully rubbing the floor at every jerk. Gintoki’s position was of the most uncomfortable and still, his moans grew louder and so he spoke for the first time since Hijikata was here : 

\- Ta…Takasugi, I’m close... fuck! 

The few words in the broken voice had the effect of an electroshock. Hijikata stumbled backwards, almost falling in the motion. The two men were too busy to hear him, and frankly he didn’t give a damn at this point. He left the fastest he could, running for dear life through the corridor, panting. He needed air, fresh air, he needed to get out of here. _Gintoki Gintoki Gintoki_

Shaking his head, gritting his teeth, nothing could do: the same images and sounds were looping in his mind, relentlessly. Gintoki’s sinful face, his throbbing hard-on, his moans, his whole body trembling as he was approaching orgasm -

“FUCK!” Hijikata shrieked as he finally reached the main door. 

He stumbled outside, out of breath, and fell on his knees, hands hardly supporting his weight. Shame was crushing him so hard he couldn’t breathe anymore, his head was spinning, his hands clammy and fuck, he was so dizzy he could - 

Hijikata threw up. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is it my messed-up mind and i can sleep at peace now.  
> hope you liked it, insecure author here <3 take care!


End file.
